"It's just my brother and me at home. No one's waiting for us," Beau answered after a pause, leaning forward to look at his beat up converse. "But, it's too much for you if we stay. . . I should probably bring him home." Argo had already done so much for them already, just by patching up their cuts and wounds.
"No, n-no, you can stay if you want. I would hate for you to have to t-take your brother all the way home on a m-messed up leg while he's unconscious. My foster d-dad leaves for the casino in two or three h-hours, you guys can take the bed and I'll l-lock the door so he doesn't come in without us k-knowing."
Beau ran a hand through his hair as he thought, but after a few moments of silence, he nodded. "Thank you. . . for going through all this trouble for us," He said softly as he glanced over at Argo. If he had attempted to patch up his own cuts at home, it wouldn't have gone well.
Vien gave him a small smile, which was rare for him. "No t-trouble, really," he insisted. He slid off the bed, going into the closet and rummaging through it until he pulled out a tattered sleeping bag. "You can have the b-bed, the asshole in the other room will be gone in about t-two hours," he said before unzipping the sleeping bag and crawling inside. "You can turn the light on when you w-want," he said, gesturing to the dingy lamp next to the bed
(I love this rp but I think I'm going to leave it…bye guys!)
(Ah. I've seen this happen before.)
(The Case of The Dreaded 2)
(oof see ya)
Beau nodded in response and returned his smile as he laid down next to his brother. He glanced over Lucky once, sighing in relief as he saw that all the blood had been wiped off and the cuts had been bandaged. "Why did you choose the Greasers?" He asked Argo, turning around to look up at the ceiling.
(I love this rp but I think I'm going to leave it…bye guys!)
(Are you sure? We'd love to have you.)
(But if you want to leave, that's fine too.)
(Bye @PuffPoff)
(Guys, we need like, a BIG event so everyone in this rp can talk and hang instead of The Case of The Dreaded 2)
(What?)
"Why'd I choose the Greasers?" Vien repeated quietly, turning to look up at the bed. "Uh…Think because a lot of them a-are like me. And no one's preppy or asks t-too many questions. And everyone seems a little n-nicer than the other gangs, I g-guess."
(You know, when a character only ever interacts with one person)
(Almost like a one-on-one rp)
(Oh okay)
(oh, right. uhhh maybe they could all meet up at the diner the next day and there could be another fight somewhere?)
(Yeah, that should work.)
"Why'd I choose the Greasers?" Vien repeated quietly, turning to look up at the bed. "Uh…Think because a lot of them a-are like me. And no one's preppy or asks t-too many questions. And everyone seems a little n-nicer than the other gangs, I g-guess."
"Yeah, we're not exactly preppy," Beau answered, chuckling softly as he turned to look at Vien. "The police and nearly every adult hates us though, so it's hard to get service at most diners. Unless Lucky over here manages to flirt with the waitresses." He added, motioning towards his brother as he rolled his eyes. Though, Lucky's flirting could come in handy sometimes.
(sounds good)
Vien chucked at that. "Guess he really is l-lucky, then," he joked. "But yeah. I've already spent half my life in juvenile h-hall, so I guess I'm sort of programmed to fall in with p-people like me," he said, propping his head up on one elbow as he talked to Beau
(oh I might have to go for the day soon, so just a heads up)
(k )
"Yeah, he can get really lucky with the girls. I wouldn't be surprised if he started the fight earlier today because he was flirting with some Social girl." Beau answered, a faint smile spreading across his face. "So, Juvie? How'd you end up in there?"
"Stealing. A lot of stealing. And maybe a f-few attempted homicides," Vien answered quietly, deciding he might as well tell him the truth. "Kind of why I tend to go by A-Argo. It helps people not recognize me in case I t-tried to stab one of their family members or s-something at some point."
Beau nodded in understanding, propping his head up on his elbows to face him more comfortably. "Do you want me to keep calling you Argo?" He asked, blowing a few strands of white-blond hair out of his face.
"Well, um. You can call me Vien if you w-want," he answered quietly. "Just, um. Don't tell anyone about the whole juvenile h-hall thing, alright?" he murmured